lips like licorice, tongue like candy
by kirishimaaa
Summary: Varied Danganronpa pairings doing various kinds of kissing. Feel free to request a ship!
1. FuyuhikoxKazuichi: Seven Minutes

**Chapter 1: Fuyuhiko/Kazuichi: Seven Minutes In Heaven **

"C'mon, man, please—"

Fuyuhiko couldn't believe this. He didn't know what was worse. Being in a tiny, cramped closet with Kazuichi or knowing full well what they were supposed to do in said closet.

Seven minutes in heaven, his ass. Sonia could offer him his goddamn freedom and he still wouldn't agree to this.

"No." He snaps for the fifth time, short and clipped.

"But duuuuuuude... " Kazuichi whined, tugging incessantly at his arm. There was no reason to, really. The closet was locked, so it wasn't like he could leave.

Hell, it was too cramped to even have personal space. Kazuichi's arms were braced against the wall on either side of Fuyuhiko's head, most likely to help keep them from awkwardly full-body touching, but that was uncomfortable in of itself. He had to stare up at Kazuichi, too, because the only other alternative was looking down and that was even weirder.

"No. I am not," He inhales, crossed arms tense. "Kissing you."

"Hey!" Kazuichi pouted, brow furrowing. "Don't make it sound so...so weird! I just wanna go through with this because-"

"Because your Miss Sonia dared us to do this in the first place, I heard you the first three goddamn times!" Fuyuhiko blew a frustrated breath through his nose. This entire situation was ridiculous, and he had no idea what Kazuichi's thought process was behind this.

Kissing Fuyuhiko will...somehow progress he and Sonia's nonexistent relationship? That was just silly. All it was gonna do is get the both of them teased mercilessly about it, and make things awkward.

"Then why can't we do it?" Kazuichi, using all three of his brain cells, asks immediately. Fuyuhiko drags a tired, tired hand down his own face.

"Because it's stupid, and I said no."

"THOSE AREN'T REASONS, MAN, C'MON."

"Quit yelling! Your breath stinks!" A lie, but still.

"Is that why you don't wanna? I got gum in my pocket, hold on," Kazuichi rushes to shove a hand into his mechanic outfit, and Fuyuhiko sighs.

"Can't we just...say we did it? Sit in here a little while longer, rustle our clothes up some, and they won't know a difference." He tries to reason and doesn't even know why he's trying.

Normally, he'd just threaten somebody until they quit annoying him. Why was Kazuichi any different? Whatever, not like he had time to dissect himself psychologically.

"Miss Sonia will know." Kazuichi says solemnly. Fuyuhiko's mouth opens to argue, but he continues, "She just will. We gotta do this full throttle, or not at all."

"Not at all sounds great, then."

"What if I say please?" Kazuichi, inadvertently or not, leans closer.

"Still no." Fuyuhiko dismisses.

"What about pretty please?"

"Huh, now that you say that…" He says, watching Kazuichi's face light up. "No."

The sad puppy look almost makes him feel bad. Almost. If Kazuichi's annoying crush on Sonia wasn't half his goddamn reasin for being, Fuyuhiko wouldn't be so uptight about it. His fixation on her is just creepy, and Fuyuhiko really didn't like it, for some reason.

"Pleaaaaase…." Kazuichi whines, leaning closer again, and Fuyuhiko resists the urge to avert his eyes. He could probably count his eyelashes at this level of closeness, but he's not gonna, because that's weird. "Just a peck!"

Fuyuhiko massages his temples. Then, just like that, "Okay."

Kazuichi blinks, mouth parting with shock. "Okay?"

"Yep. You heard me." Fuyuhiko grins, spiteful and slow. His reasoning behind agreeing was just...to be blunt, he thinks Kazuichi is too much of a coward to actually do it. All you gotta do is hand him the reins and watch him fumble awkwardly, and that's exactly what the yakuza planned on doing. "C'mon, mack on me already. These lips ain't getting any younger."

"Uh…." Kazuichi appears to find the ground very fascinating suddenly. Fuyuhiko represses a snicker. "Alright."

"That's what I thought." Fuyuhiko says smugly, and then... "Wait, what—"

Two calloused hands cup his face, surprisingly gentle, as Fuyuhiko gets an up-close look of Kazuichi's hesitant expression before he leans in, and then, just like that, Fuyuhiko's being kissed. It's overwhelmingly childish, just a mash of tight-lipped mouths. Clearly Kazuichi had about as much experience as he did.

Fuyuhiko stays stiff a good few moments, before he gives up on life entirely and goes with it. Or he tries to, but boy, is Kazuichi making it hard. The hands on his face were trembling. Maybe it was nerves, or the fact that he doesn't really wanna do this.

Fuyuhiko pulls back just enough to speak, whispering lowly. "Don't be so stiff. It feels like a statue is trying to make out with me."

He almost immediately regrets saying that last part, but Kazuichi's full-face flush makes the embarrassing statement worth it.

"How do I…" Kazuichi whispers back, looking anywhere but Fuyuhiko. "Uh. Y'know."

"Hell if I really know. Not like I have much experience either." Fuyuhiko admits. "Just...here, hold on."

He tugs Kazuichi down, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. Runs a hand through his dyed hair for good measure, something he's seen a lot in romance movies. Given the other boy's sharp inhale, he didn't dislike it.

"Start slow, and don't tense up." He warns, trying to go about this in a clinical teaching way, if just so he didn't have to come to terms with what this actually was. "Move your mouth a little, too. I think that's how you're supposed to do it."

The second kiss goes better, if only somewhat. It felt a little too real now, the way Kazuichi's lips moved hesitantly against his own. Something builds in Fuyuhiko's chest, and he tries to ignore it, leaning on the tips of his toes to make the height difference less.

Something warm and wet slides across the seam of his mouth, oh god that's his tongue isn't it, and all he can think to do is let his lips part while the fluttering, nauseating feeling in his stomach increased tenfold.

Having someone else's tongue in your mouth wasn't as gross as he'd imagined. Maybe it helped that Kazuichi tasted like the dessert they'd eaten earlier at dinner, chocolate-y and slow as it brushed against the inside of Fuyuhiko's mouth.

Sharpness snagged against his bottom lip, leaving a smarting sting.

"_Fuck_—" He pulls away briefly to mumble, glare half-hearted at best. "Watch the teeth, idiot."

"Sorry." Barely leaves Kazuichi's mouth before he's kissing Fuyuhiko's again, twice as eager as before with half the previous hesitation.

His teeth manage to scrape against Fuyuhiko's lip three more times during the kiss, but he's too distracted to really care. It's when his tongue is being sucked on gently that he finally thinks _huh, this is probably more than a peck_.

Kazuichi's hands leave his face. Before he can ask what's wrong, a grip settles on his waist, and he nearly coughs into the kiss out of shock. Kazuichi pulls away, just enough to bury his face into Fuyuhiko's neck. He huffs out a breathy little laugh. His lips are nearly touching Fuyuhiko's skin.

"What're we even doing?" His grip slides low, moving to Fuyuhiko's hips.

"B-beats me." Fuck, why did he stutter. "...You wanted to."

"Yeah."

They fall into a silence that's surprisingly not as uncomfortable as you'd think. They're probably still coming off the high of...whatever this was, and weren't currently thinking as much as they should.

Hands squeeze his waist, and when he looks down he sees that Kazuichi can nearly wrap both hands completely around his middle. Kazuichi whistles.

"You're tiny, man." He says it as if he's just realized. "I could pick you up with one arm tied behind my back."

"Do you want to die?" Fuyuhiko threatens, though it probably loses most of the effect with how hard he's blushing.

"S not a bad thing." Kazuichi's breath puffs against the sensitive side of his throat, and he swallows. "I sorta like it. Miss Sonia is taller than me, so I kinda wish-"

If you asked Fuyuhiko why he jerked Kazuichi backward by the hair, mashing their mouths together with an almost _angry _ferocity, well...he'd deny any of this ever happened. And then probably murder you.


	2. KeeboxKokichi: Wireplay

**CHAPTER 2: KEEBO/KOKICHI: WIREPLAY**

Keebo may be in a pickle. (He still doesn't understand that phrase, and that's after assessing uses of it over the internet multiple times now. Why would he be in a pickle? That's unsanitary.)

To put it more plainly: Keebo was going through some trouble.

(There. Better. No more confusing metaphors.)

He'd been a bit too immersed into his thoughts, and that'd led to him doing something that, well...

He fell down the stairs.

An entire flight of them, in fact. So loudly, the sounds of clanking metal reverberating through the entire floor, that he'd be hopeful someone would come and help. However, it was also 1am.

Everyone should be in their dorms, asleep. So here Keebo was, tumbling down the stairs of the third floor at a concerning speed before slumping against the very bottom.

He could recall begging his master for pain sensors years ago, in a shoddy attempt at feeling more human, and he'd never regretted a decision more right about now.

"Ouch," He winced, untwisting his limbs before getting into an unsteady standing position. "Oh, it's the first time I've had to say that. It doesn't feel very momentous, does it... "

He checked himself for any popped-out-of-place parts or worse, tears, and was able to sigh in relief once he found none.

The sigh of relief stuttered considerably when his hand brushed over something, right at the base of his left arm. Was that—

"Oh no."

It was a loose wire.

Sticking out, gaudy and obvious, was a red wire. An almost-torn red wire, barely keeping together at the middle.

If he was able to use both hands, he could easily just ease it back in his arm component and request Miu fix it tomorrow morning.

As he did not have three arms, that was impossible.

And so Keebo sat down on a step, put his face in his hands, and worried about it for a good five minutes. Letting anxieties stew wasn't good, apparently. He only felt worse the longer he sat still and kept thinking.

Keebo was learning something new about emotions without even trying now! If he wasn't in this situation, he'd take time to smile about it.

But he was in this situation, and so there was no time for smiling. Only despairing.

"Hey, Kee-boy! What're you doing?" A familiar high-pitched voice chimes in, inches from his ear.

Keebo would insist that he most definitely did not scream in fright, except that he did. The robot propels forward a few inches, nearly falling off the step he was sitting on.

"K-kokichi?" He says uneasily, hand pressed against his chest. A very human gesture, he briefly noted. "You scared the life out of me!"

Another metaphor but at least it didn't involve pickles, and somewhat made sense.

The boy addressed laughed, black hair bouncing slightly when he plopped down next to Keebo on the stair, entirely too close to be comfortable.

"Can't have life if you're not alive, silly!" He said, grinning.

"Even late at night, your bigotry knows no bounds." Keebo deflated, too used to this to even get upset anymore. "What are you doing awake?"

"I was in a lab, when I heard some loud-ass noises." Kokichi hummed. "Thought the exisals were coming out and got excited, but I guess I was just hearing things."

"Ah, that was..." He stopped, suddenly realizing that Kokichi is definitely going to laugh at him. Not what he needed right now, but he couldn't think of an excuse. "...it was me."

The human cocked his head, "You? You're not that noisy when you walk."

"I am not noisy at all!" Keebo huffed. "I...may have fallen down the stairs."

Keebo expected laughter, but not the amount he got. You'd think Kokichi had heard the funniest comedic rhetoric in all the world, with how his head tipped back, crazed laughter echoing across the school.

"It is not funny!" Keebo couldn't help the pout on his face, eyes narrowed and hurt. "I even injured my machinery, and I don't have anyone to h—"

Kokichi's laughter abruptly came to an end. When he looked at Keebo, he was still grinning. "You did what now?"

He had a feeling he'd just made a very big mistake.

Keebo really should have insisted that they do this in his dorm room instead. Maybe he should've insisted that they don't do this at all.

"_I can totally do it!"_

"_You...want to help me?" Keebo's voice accidentally bled his skepticism._

"_Not particularly." Kokichi shrugged. "But if it means getting a reeeal close look at your robot parts, I'll do it."_

"_I do not like your phrasing of that." Keebo frowned._

"_You want my help or not, Kee-boy?" Kokichi huffed, already sounding impatient._

"_Well… "_

He did need his help. And he was about to get it. Whatever it was.

The robot glanced uneasily around him. Kokichi's room looked... um. It was certainly unique. He avoided touching the horse mask situated on the boy's bed.

Well, if Kokichi was up and about at 1 am, maybe he didn't spend very much time in his dorm. His unsettling dorm.

The boy in question shut the door behind him, locking it casually. A large red !DANGER! appeared before Keebo's eyes, but he willed it away, keeping his gaze on the comforter. Kokichi wouldn't kill him, would he?

At least not with everyone right here. If Keebo screamed, he would be heard. Maybe it was Kokichi's safety precaution, locking the door.

Kokichi sat down beside him so suddenly Keebo bounced a bit in place. The robot cleared his nonexistent vocal cords, planning to get straight to the point.

Any words he'd planned on stalled when Kokichi grabbed his arm, looking down at it with a suspiciously joyous air. "So I just need to put this back in place?"

He moved to poke the wire, and Keebo barely managed to refrain from batting his hand away. "Please don't do that. It's very fragile."

Kokichi slumped with a sigh.

"Leave it to the robot to be no fun." The grip on Keebo's arm turned gentler, if grudgingly so. "You didn't answer my question."

"Oh! My apologies." Keebo met his gaze for the first time since they'd gotten to the dorm. "You just need to pull my forearm component back, carefully stick the wire in, and then put my arm component back in place. I'll get Miu to do the rest in the morning."

Kokichi nodded wordlessly, looking 45% more bored all of a sudden. Ah, Keebo had forgotten that he wasn't the fondest of Miu. She may have a foul mouth, but she'd always helped Keebo with new abilities and fixing him.

Sure, she did it... a little weirdly, but if it's what motivates her to get his repairs done, then she can moan and cling to him uncomfortably close all she wants.

"You see these two buttons?" Keebo motioned to the buttons at the base of his arm, under his elbow. "Just press them at the same time."

"Got it, got it." Kokichi did exactly as he was told, which was a pleasant surprise.

He made a sound of awe when the lid of Keebo's arm component snapped back, revealing a panel of wiring and other inner workings of his limb.

"Woah!" Kokichi exclaimed, and Keebo couldn't help the twinge of pride. Finally, he was being taken seriously! "So what would happen if you cut these?"

"I'd lose very important requirements needed for this arm to function." Keebo answered automatically, and then reeled back. "Wait, why are you asking—"

"Just curious!" Kokichi giggled, clinging to Keebo's side, his small hands on the robot's arm to keep him from moving away. "Quit squirming, Kee-boy, or I won't help you at all."

Keebo stilled reluctantly. "Please hurry."

"Don't rush me," Kokichi's hand hovered over his arm for a tense few seconds. The human's eyes flicked up to Keebo's face. "Or I may accidentally mess up somewhere, heh."

Before Keebo could process a good comeback, Kokichi's fingers brushed against his inner wiring. A hot flash of something went up Keebo's back and he gasped.

Kokichi looked up again, eyebrows raised. "Something the matter, Kee-boy?"

"Uh—" Stuttering was not a part of his programming, so the fact that he was doing it was baffling. It was suddenly so hard to focus. "I-I...no. Nothing's wrong. I'm sorry for my outburst."

Kokichi held his gaze for an uncomfortable amount of time, purple eyes narrowed. Then, just like that, "Alright then."

With that, Kokichi dipped his hand back in his arm component, and the firm way he stroked over his wires was anything but accidental.

"Ah—" Why wasn't his mouth obeying his protocol? Everything felt too hot, too hyper-focused, and his eyes squeezed shut. He had the urge to squeeze his legs together, so he did. "K-kokic-"

His protests did nothing to make Kokichi stop, so Keebo tried to weakly push him away with his functioning arm.

"Quit that, or I'll rip a wire out. What's wrong, anyway?" Kokichi asked again, and his voice was noticeably lower. And closer. "C'mon, c'mon, tell me."

"That feels incredibly stra-" Kokichi decided that'd be the perfect time to tug at a wire, and his voice rose an octave higher mid-word. "aaaaange-!"

Kokichi finally paused his ministrations, and Keebo's tensed form slumped over. He had no need for breathing, but he still panted, robotic chest heaving with breaths he didn't have a purpose for.

"Huh." Kokichi said. Eyes roved over his flustered expression, his tightly-drawn legs. "Huh."

"What?" Keebo asked breathlessly, still regaining his composure.

"Oh, it's nothing." He smiled sweetly. "Just didn't know robots could get turned on until now."

Keebo cocked his head, confused. "Unless I'm in sleep mode, I am always turned on."

It was silent for a good moment.

"Yeah. Of course you are." Kokichi replied, a breathy little laugh in his voice. Keebo vaguely wondered what was so funny.

When Kokichi leaned close, his expression could almost be called fond. He reached up to cup Keebo's face between his hands.

"What're you…" Keebo trailed off, seeing the strangely serious look Kokichi was giving him. "Um."

It was when Kokichi came even closer, practically sitting in the robot's lap by this point, and smashed their mouths together, that Keebo's processing circuits finally had to learn first-hand what kissing was.

Oh, Keebo thought. _Oh._

Just like about everything when it came to Kokichi, it was frenzied and a little rough. The human raked a hand through his synthetic hair, tugging at it when Keebo didn't immediately reciprocate.

Didn't know how to reciprocate. Or if he even wanted to.

Kokichi's tongue wastes no time in slipping past his lips, licking over everything he could reach. As if this was another way to explore Keebo's properties as a robot.

This would certainly be something strange if Keebo didn't have oral features that were mostly humanoid. A tongue, teeth, the works. Even saliva!

It'd be like kissing a toaster, otherwise.

Why was he thinking about this right now?

Probably because he had no idea what to do about the situation at hand.

Clumsily, Keebo rested a hand against the back of the boy's neck, an action he'd seen his fair share of in romantic movies, the ones he'd perused to understand humans more. It garnered a pleased-sounding sigh, so Kokichi probably didn't loathe it.

When Kokichi took Keebo's tongue between his teeth and bit down, sending a rush of pain to his processors, his senses came flooding back. Injured arm. Exposed wire.

...kissing. Oh.

WHY WAS HE JUST LETTING KOKICHI KISS HIM?!

The way Keebo shoved the human back was none too gentle, and he rushed to scoot away, put some distance between the two of them. Kokichi didn't look too hurt. Quite the opposite, in fact. The flush of his cheeks stood out against his pale skin, and the look in his eyes was downright unnerving.

"W-what was that?!" Keebo exclaimed.

"A kiss, stupid."

"I know that!" Keebo huffed. "I mean why did you—"

He immediately quieted down when Kokichi's hands were back at his injured arm. He held his breath, eyes wide.

Kokichi looked at his arm, and then back up at his face. The quiet was overwhelming.

He grinned, slow and unsettling.

And then he did just as Keebo had asked. Gently stuck the wire back inside his circuit, and closed the top.

"There ya go." The human moved back to his spot, actually letting him have his own personal space.

"Uh." Keebo said stupidly. "Oh. Thank you? I am...very appreciativ-"

"Don't do that." Kokichi's upturned nose wrinkled. "It's gross."

He couldn't even muster up the effort to be offended.

"Well! I'll be going." Kokichi said, springing up from the bed and heading toward the door. "This wasn't the most boring thing I've ever been a part of, Kee-boy. Proud of you."

"Ah, alright. Good night." Keebo said, and then– "Wait, this is your room!"

The door slammed closed, and he sighed.

Robots didn't get headaches, but he massaged his temples anyway.


	3. HajimexKomaeda: Milk and Hope

"Did you take precious time out of your day to bring food to little old me?"

There was that coy, slithering and soft tone Hajime hadn't missed. When he'd walked in full of apprehension, breakfast in hand, he'd known Komaeda would be tied up. That was the entire point, but this was...

Thick wire wrapped up his legs all the way to the knee, keeping them tightly bound together. A chain kept his arms pinned behind his back, leaving him stuck laying uncomfortably on his side.

The building was sweltering, given the summer temperatures. He had a coat on too, and Hajime would bet Kazuichi and Nidai were both too dumb (or just didn't care enough) to think about taking the extra layers off, much less cleaning him up. It's been two days.

He was probably drenched in sweat.

Add all that up, you'd think he'd be a spiteful, frightened, exhausted mess of a person. Maybe beg to be let free, or call the lot of them sick for actually leaving him like this.

But no.

Komaeda was smiling, and the most unsettling part is that it was genuine. All upturned eyes, gently heaving chest, and heat-flushed cheeks that stood out against his pale face.

He looked so, so happy to see Hajime it would be downright pitiful if... if he hadn't done what he'd done.

Hajime wouldn't feel bad for him. He got himself here. Keep your composure, and leave quickly. Don't let him confuse you, and don't linger.

"I'm just bringing you food." He says, short and clipped. Komaeda's smile widens.

Things went right to hell when Komaeda dared assume Hajime would feed him.

"Wh—" He says, brows furrowed angrily. "Why the hell would I do that?"

"Well... " Only he could sound so politely condescending. "I can't exactly eat by myself like this. My hands are all tied up."

Hajime stares down at him. A beat passes, and then two.

He drops to his knees with a muttered curse, the bowl trembling dangerously with his sudden movement. Leaving the food here, knowing damn well all the other boy could do was stare helplessly at it, was just cruel. He hated that he had to acknowledge that fact. He wishes he could be as ruthlessly stupid as Kazuichi and Nidai were.

"Whatever." He snaps, slamming the bowl onto the ground so harshly some milk spilled out of the side.

At least this breakfast was mercifully simple. Cereal, some off-brand stuff that looked relatively edible. Probably soggy by now, but hey. Komaeda didn't deserve any less.

He takes a spoonful of it, dangling it in front of the other boy. "Here."

Komaeda's eyes flit briefly to the spoon, and then back to Hajime's face.

Already thin patience waning, Hajime couldn't help the way he jabbed the silverware into his cheek, a bit of milk spilling off the spoon, trailing down his face. "I said here! Hurry the hell up!"

Komaeda only chuckled. A quiet, breathy noise that Hajime wasn't quite sure was a product of his exhaustion, or just how he usually laughed. He opened his mouth just slightly, probably purposefully trying to piss him off more.

Hajime shoved the spoon into his mouth. It clacked against his teeth, reaching the back of his tongue. Komaeda gagged, eyes widening.

This was probably the first time he's seen him look genuinely caught off guard. And in such a vulnerable position, too.

If Hajime were a worse person, he'd say it was a satisfying sight to behold.

...

Oh, what the hell. It _was_ a satisfying sight to behold. Sue him.

Parted, red-flushed lips grimaced around the spoon. Komaeda's stare toward him looked genuinely confused. Milk dribbled past his mouth, down his neck. Hajime tracked the movement and didn't really know why.

"-ajime..._ahjime_!" Nagito's slurred, muffled voice pulls him out of his strange trance. He hurriedly pulls the spoon back. Komaeda immediately starts coughing, and guilt edges along his conscience.

He hadn't meant to shove it in so forcefully.

"Sorry." He mutters reluctantly.

"S'okay." Komaeda smiles at him. He's got dimples, Hajime vaguely notices. "Trash like me deserves worse anyway."

"Quit that." Hajime's expression is exasperated.

Komaeda still has milk all over him. Some of it dried, leaving behind a sticky-looking shine, while a bit of it was still trailing leisurely down his face and collarbone. He thinks of how unpleasant that must feel, and his nose wrinkles in disgust.

Hajime reaches a hand out and then hesitates.

It's not like Komaeda could get it himself. With that thought, his mind was made up. He gingerly wiped the milk off at the corner of Komaeda's bottom lip with his thumb, dragging down to get the dribble on his chin, too.

Komaeda is deathly still. Hajime would swear he wasn't breathing if he couldn't currently feel it. Soft, warm breaths touched his wrist. Fairly even, that was a good sign.

"You're a mess," He sighs, reminding himself of an exasperated mother chastising her misbehaving child.

"Yeah." Komaeda agrees, smiling happily.

"That's not a good thing." Hajime rests the back of his hand against Komaeda's cheek, checking for fever. He's definitely warm, and Hajime gnaws worriedly at his lip. "You feel hot. Do you think you're getting sick?"

No answer. Komaeda is still staring at him, eyes lidded. Hazy. Looking a lot more flushed than he had been.

"Oi." He pats his cheek. "Answer me. What's the matter?"

"Oh, it's nothing." Komaeda says coyly. Hajime doesn't even have a second of relief before he's talking again, "Just...to think someone like you would touch trash like _me…."_

He tilts his face so his mouth is pressed against Hajime's hand. He kisses the middle of his palm and Hajime's face flushes a startling shade of red, eyes wide. "This feeling… it's akin to _hope_."


End file.
